Alliance
by Leahelisabeth
Summary: It's all in the blood. Sam's destiny is coming for him a little ahead of schedule, all thanks to one Percy Jackson. Hell and Hades are united against him and something dark is rising and the Winchester's are the only light that stands between it and the destruction of the world they know. Pre-series, Dean 16, Sam 12, Percy 14.
1. Chapter 1

It was a night like any other. The motel room was of dubious cleanliness and hideously decorated, warded with salt and protective symbols. John had already been gone for several days, but the money wasn't tight yet and they were living in a place where the heater worked and the sheets were pretty close to clean. Their stomachs were pleasantly full of Pizza Pops and Coca Cola. Sam was on one of the beds, head buried in a book, and Dean had the remote, flipping back and forth between the news, Hannah Montana and Jeopardy.

Finally, Dean let out a huge sigh and lobbed the remote at his brother, catching him on the shoulder.

"Stop it, Dean," Sam glared before turning back to his book.

"I'm bored," Dean whined. "There's nothing on TV."

"I've got an extra book in my backpack."

"Oh yeah? What is it? Sweet Valley High? Or perhaps Degrassi?" Dean smirked.

"Hey, that was once, and you didn't know what that library was like. The librarian was very strict about what she would let kids under 12 take out. You and Dad were busy with a case. I finished all my homework and I was going to crazy, so I read what was available. And if you're so grown-up, why did you leave the channel on Hannah Montana?"

Dean looked back at the TV and realized it was true, then lunged at Sam to grab the remote back. Sam dropped his book with a rather girly shriek and curled himself up on top of it.

Dean pulled at Sam's skinny arms and legs, trying to get him to release the remote but it seemed he was channelling his inner hedgehog. "Guess I am gonna have to play dirty," Dean muttered before finding that spot right under Sam's ribs and jabbing his thumb in.

Sam squealed even louder and flailed, remote sailing out of his hand and hitting the wall. The battery compartment popped open and the batteries rolled under the bed.

"Why, you little…" Dean laughed before grabbing Sam again and wrestling him onto the floor.

Sam was wiry and strong for his age but he was no match for Dean in size and diabolical ingenuity. In less than five minutes, he was completely immobilized as Dean held him down and contorted impressively to fart directly into his face.

Sam, meanwhile was alternately laughing and choking so hard he could hardly struggle anymore. "Uncle! I give, I give. Let me up, loser," he managed to get out between gasps for air.

"What are the magic words?"

"Dean is the most awesome big brother in the entire world and I would be curled up in a sobbing, pathetic ball if it weren't for him." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Again," Dean shouted. "And this time without the sarcasm. I've got another one ready to let loose."

Sam opened his mouth, trying to project sincerity into his tone, when there came a knock at the door and instantly, the whole mood changed.

Dean was up and over to the door in a flash, gun pulled in one smooth movement. Sam was already dropping back to cover him. Dean opened the door a crack and peered out, not recognizing the dark-cloaked man who stood there in the darkened hallway.

"Who are you and what do you want?" he asked sharply, motioning to Sam to get out of the line of sight and retreat to the bathroom.

Sam glared defiantly at Dean and shook his head, strengthening his grip on the gun.

"I\m a friend of your father's," the man spoke softly.

"Oh really?" Dean scoffed. "He didn't mention you were dropping by."

"He didn't know I was dropping by. Can I come in?"

"State your business from the other side of the door," Dean spoke gruffly, trying to fight off the embarrassing squeak that sometimes erupted when he was attempting to sound menacing in his 16 year old voice.

"I need to speak to your brother," the man smiled, his voice smooth as silk.

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," Dean looked reassuringly over at Sam, whose eyes had gone wide in surprise. "My dad is sleeping and he is one mean sonofabitch if you wake him up when he is sleeping off a bender. Come back in the daytime and maybe he will verify that he knows you then. Until then, you are not seeing my brother."

"Nice bluff, kid, but I'm afraid I have to call it. I know your father isn't here. He hasn't been in a number of days. I asked you politely, but you cannot stop me from speaking to your brother. You have one more chance to open this door or I will simply be walking in," the man growled.

"And you have one more chance to leave in one piece. I suggest you take it," Dean snarled back.

The man, pushed the door, sending Dean back a couple of steps without the slightest bit of effort. He looked down, amused, at the bullet holes riddling his chest before crossing the salt lines with ease and walking straight to the corner where Sam had now curled himself up, empty gun held up like a shield.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't want this to happen. I hoped to deal with this without you ever becoming involved, but it is too late. The war has started and we need you," the man placed his hand on Sam's forehead. Sam's eyes flashed bright white for an instant and then he crumpled to the ground.

"The hell did you do to him?" Dean asked angrily, pushing himself in between the man and his brother and shoving his gun into the man's chest.

"I think we have established that guns do nothing to me. I will not hurt you. I have not hurt your brother."

"Then why is he unconscious?" Dean snarled.

"I swear, all I did to your brother is reach into his brain and flip a few switches ahead of schedule. Nothing will happen that would not have happened anyway. Your brother will wake up just fine, not even a headache to show for this night."

"Who are you?"

The man looked at him sadly. "You'll find out. Watch out for your brother. He's going to need you more than ever in the next few days." And suddenly, the man was gone, leaving nothing but bullet holes in the plaster and Sam collapsed in the corner to show that he had been there at all.


	2. Chapter 2

So, this was going to be my h/c bigbang fic, but then the mods got sick and I need feedback for motivation. I've got about 10000 words already completed, but I would love to hear any ideas. As always, I own nothing.

.~o()o~.

His brain felt fuzzy, like cotton candy. He was sure if he could just grab a hold of one of the blobs, he could tear away the fluffy stuff that obscured his thoughts and get to the answers of some questions that were burning inside him, such as, why was he on the floor. Why did his mouth taste like that closet he got shoved into when they were trying get rid of the ghost of the lady with all the cats? Why was he so cold? When did that icepick get shoved through his eye socket and if Dean were to remove it, would it rupture his eyeball? Finally, why was he seeing an image of a dark-haired boy, somewhere around Dean's age, look of entreaty on his face and mouth moving with words he could not hear?

"…ammy. SAMMY! Wake up!" Dean's frantic voice finally broke through Sam;s lethargy and he managed to prop his eyes open to half mast. "Hey kiddo, welcome back. You alright?"

Sam nodded and immediately regretted it as nausea surged in his gut. It was only with great difficulty that he managed to keep it down. "Dean," he whispered. "Careful."

"About what? What's wrong? Talk to me, bro," Dean nervously pushed the hair off Sam's forehead.

"Careful with the ice pick….don't want to get vitreous humor on the carpet. D'ya think it stains?"

"The hell are you talking about? There's nothing humorous about this situation, vitreous or otherwise, and its most definitely not going to stain the carpet, Sammy. Now look, try to focus on me. Do you remember your name?"

"Alejandro," Sam glared weakly. "Can't you deal with the important stuff first, like getting this freaking ice-pick out of my forehead without staining the carpet?"

"Sam, there is no ice pick in your head. Don't you think I'd be freaking out a hell of a lot more if you had a sharp object stuck in your brain?"

"Oh," Sam frowned. "Well, can you tell the boy to stop looking at me then?"

Dean was getting more than a little panicky, but trying not to show it. "What boy?"

"Orange shirt…smells like the sea," Sam was fading fast/ Dean tried to shake him awake, but he was soon fast asleep.

Dean scooped Sam up in his arms and laid him down on the beds. He felt his pulse for a few tense minutes but all seemed to be well and he eventually had to conclude that whatever the man had done did no permanent damage and Sam was sleeping. Nonetheless, Dean intended to be vigilant. Not for the first time, he was grateful that their dad had bought the truck, giving the impala to Dean for his sixteenth birthday. If Sam were to suddenly take a turn for the worst, he was gonna need those wheels. Besides, the moment Sam woke up and was coherent, they were definitely getting the hell outta dodge.

He stripped down to his boxers and a t-shirt and lay down next to Sam, scooting the kid closer, to check for fever, and resting his hand on Sam's chest, right above his heart, in case the steady beat faltered. Then he prepared himself for a long night with no sleep.

.~o()o~.

Percy was wide awake in seconds. It had been becoming a regular occurrence for him over the last two weeks. He lay in his bed, eyes tight shut, trying to fool his brain into sucking him back under, but it was no use, his eyes were wide open and his brain was already going a mile a minute. He snagged his watch off the bedside table and looked at it with a groan. 2:56am was a record, even for him. It seemed his nights were rapidly getting shorter. He couldn't remember the last time he had more than four hours at a time.

With a frustrated huff, he threw off his blankets and rolled out of bed. Within minutes, he was down at the water's edge, feet submerged and revelling in the cool freshness. The water had a conflicting effect on him. He could hear the sounds as it lapped at the shore, just enough to mute the rest of the world. Normally, the hypnotic sound would make him drowsy, but the water was also bringing growing alertness and keenness to his mind. Suddenly, he could remember what he had been dreaming about. It was a simple dream; there was a boy, maybe eleven or twelve, dark floppy hair and soulful eyes and deep dimples. He didn't speak, just looked at Percy curiously. And in his head, Percy could hear the voice of his father.

"Find him, find Sam Winchester."

"Who's Sam Winchester?" Annabeth plopped down beside him.

"What?" Percy nearly jumped out of his skin. "Where did you hear that name?"

"From you just now. You were muttering to yourself. Couldn't sleep?"

"I could ask you the same question," Percy smirked.

"Too much in my head to think about. What's your excuse, Seaweed Brain?" Annabeth socked him lightly in the shoulder.

"Very funny," Percy shot back. "And I dunno. Do you ever get the feeling that something bad is about to happen and no matter how hard you wish, there is nothing you can do about it?"

"What kind of bad thing?" Annabeth asked seriously.

"Its hard to explain," Percy looked out over the water, trying to find the right words. "Its like…something…well, when I first learned to take ownership of my power, its like a connection to the sea was born inside me. I don't really notice it most times unless I am searching for it. I don't know, its like a vibration or a frequency, like radio waves. Anyway, something has changed. I think it must be something big because now whenever I reach out to the sea, it answers wrong. Before, it was always home, safe and love from my father once I learned how to accept it. Now its…cold. I'm sorry, I just can't explain it."

"I think I know sort of what you mean, but I honestly don't know what you can do about it. The ocean is a big place. I am sure Poseidon is getting it all under control," Annabeth took his hand in hers. "You can't keep going without sleep like this. And if something is wrong, I am pretty sure a quest will be in order and if the problem is with the sea then you will be the logical choice to lead it. So you need to be rested."

"As you should too. Go back to bed, Annabeth. I think I'm going to spend the rest of the night here, just to keep an eye on things."

"Only if you do actually try to get some sleep," she stood up, wiping her hands on her pants., then leaned back down to him and kissed him softly. It was still new to both of them, expressing what had been in their hearts for so long. Percy blushed and grinned when she pulled away.

"At least you have given me something else to think about," he smiled as she grinned big and sauntered into the darkness.

Percy leaned back against a small grassy hillock and just listened to the water, He didn't expect to fall asleep again, but the waves had finally done their job and lulled him off to sleep. He could see the dream coming even before he reached the shores of sleep.

_Yellow. Yellow all over. Yellow before him and behind him, above him and below. Yellow eyes, unblinking, changing like the sea, colours swirling in their depths and reaching out hypnotically. He longed for another colour, any colour, but most of all the blue of the sea. _

"_I see you, Percy Jackson," a cold voice called from the swirling depths. "I know you, Percy Jackson. You are mine and you will do my will. I have bought you and this is my purpose. Find him, Percy. Kill him, Percy. Then fade away."_

_The voice disappeared into the yellow and Percy hung there for a heartbeat, perhaps for two, terrified, breathing fast, pulse racing. The yellow swirled around him, faster and faster before forcing his mouth open and tunnelling inside._


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was most definitely not ready to wake up. His eyes were gummy, his throat was parched, his head ached fiercely and he felt as if he no longer fit in his skin. He squeezed his eyes tight shut, but it was too late.

"Busted," Dean's voice came from above him. "I know you are awake. Open up those peepers and tell me how you feel."

"G'waghughgh, Deeeann," Sam slurred, raising an uncoordinated hand to where he was sure his brother's face was and giving it a push.

"Yeah, really not easing my mind on the whole, mental state thing here. Please, wake up, drink some water, use at least one clear sentence and I will leave you alone."

Sam groaned inwardly and focused all his concentration on his left eye, moving it up slowly a millimetre at a time. The right eye followed and Sam slowly and painfully managed to turn his head far enough to look up into Dean's face. "You are a pig-headed jerk. Even my hair hurts. Leave me alone," Sam said clearly before the effort became too much and his eyes flopped shut again.

Dean desperately tried to keep his chuckle from escaping. Sam's hair was stuck up in spiky clumps, his eyes were soft and sleepy and there was dried drool stuck to his chin, all making him approximately as intimidating as a field mouse. "I mean it about the water, Sam. I don't want to force it down your throat, but I will if I have to."

Sam pouted, making it even harder for Dean to hold in his laughter. "Fine," he said tersely, finding it far too much effort to say any more than that.

When Dean held the glass to his lips, Sam found he was much thirstier than he had originally thought and was soon gulping it down. It took a while before his thirst was sated and by that time he was awake and mostly coherent.

"What happened, Dean?" Sam asked after he put down the empty glass. "Was it a hunt?"

"What do you remember?"

"Um…I was reading a book? And then you tackled me or something? Gosh, Dean, did you give me a concussion? You're such a jerk!"

"Hold on, bitch, you know what they say when you assume…" Dean smirked, almost enough to mask his worry. "You don't remember anything? The knock on the door, anything?"

"I remember you tackling me and that is it, nothing else."

"What about the boy? The one in the orange shirt? Do you remember him?"

"How do you know about the boy in the orange shirt?" Sam asked, eyes widening slightly.

"You told me the first time you woke up, when you were all out of it and talking crazy shit like ice picks in the brain and vital humour staining the carpet, although I can't see you having much at all."

"Vitreous humour, it's the liquid inside your eyeball."

"And the Geekasaurus strikes again, dominating all battles and establishing the nerdivore at the very top of the food chain."

"Shut up, Dean," Sam grinned shyly.

"Now, what about the boy in the orange shirt?"

"I think he must be about my age, maybe a year or two older. He looks very strong, trained, like we are but different. He had this huge bronzy looking sword thing and he really reminded me of us. You know, seeing too much long before our time. He's a warrior, maybe from a different life, but knowing the same things.

"And why do you suppose you are seeing him?

"I think…I think it is because he is supposed to kill me."

.~o()o~.

"Percy, wake up!" a voice pierced through the yellow fog. Percy was instantly alert, jumping off the ground, hand already pulling Riptide from his pocket.

"Hey, hey, hey, Whoa!" Grover jumped backward and ducked, Celestial Bronze whistling in a shining arc where his neck had been only moments before. "It's me!"

Percy stood there panting, heart racing a mile a minute. "Grover! I could have killed you. What are you doing?"

"Waking you up. I didn't realize that was punishable by death."

Percy capped Riptide and shoved it back in his pocket. He sat back down on the bank, cradling his head in his hands.

"Headache?" Grover asked.

Percy shook his head, only to realize that his head did hurt. It wasn't a migraine or a tension headache. He only noticed if he was thinking about it, but there was a sensation of tightness behind his eyes, like his brain had gotten too big for his head. "I'm sorry, man. The dream I had…well, you would have attacked someone too."

"Dream? What kind of dream?" Grover asked quickly, brow furrowed tightly.

"It's nothing," Percy said softly. "I can't even remember it."

Grover relaxed a little. "Then it can't be too important. If Poseidon or anyone was trying to get a hold of you, they would make you remember."

Percy looked up quizzically. "Were you worried? Is there something going on that I need to know about?"

"No, nothing at all. Nothing concrete anyway, just this feeling I have that something is not quite right. But maybe its just that the wind is changing. There's a storm coming, a big one. Maybe that uneasiness is all I feel."

Percy looked up at the clear, blue sky. Birds were singing. It was the perfect summer morning. "Oh yeah, I can see the bad weather coming alright."

"Laugh it up. You'll see. We will all be tying stuff down today, checking the roofs, moving anything that can be water-damaged inside. It's going to be a doozy."

"Sure, Grover. Hey, you hungry? Suddenly, I'm starving." Percy hauled himself to his feet. His head pulsed sharply, once, and Percy swayed on his feet.

'You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I don't know what that was, but I will be fine."

.~o()o~.

Sam walked quickly into the corner store. He knew Dean was watching his watch. He snagged a couple candy bars and some chips for himself, made sure he grabbed a jumbo sized pack of the most essential food group, Dean's M&M's. A turkey sandwich from the cooler and a banana for himself, one coke and one coffee, all made it into his arms and he only just managed to get it all on the counter without spilling anything. He was starting to feel a little jittery.

"Will that be all?" The cashier asked, snapping her gum and looking down her nose at Sam.

"Yeah, that's everything," Sam smiled winningly, dimples popping out. She wasn't impressed.

"And how will you be paying for this, stolen cash or fake credit card?"

Sam looked up startled as she had delivered that last line with the same bored indifference as everything else she had said to him. He couldn't really believe his ears.

And then, he couldn't believe his eyes either. The woman behind the counter was changing, nose elongating to form a beak, fingers turning into sharp talons and wings sprouting from her shoulders and stretching from one side of the room to the other. She stretched, neck cracking, and shook herself out.

"You would be surprised how much that hurts, trying to keep these inside this revolting gas station uniform. If I have to keep them locked away, I would much rather be wearing silk, or cashmere.

Sam came in without a gun, Dean had parked around the side of the building, not expecting any trouble. Sam knew he was alone in this one. He bolted for the door, hoping the element of surprise would be enough to reach Dean and get some protection, but the woman…animal…creature-thing was too fast for him and she was between him and the door in a flash. Then, using her wings to herd him away from the door, she backed him into a corner.

"Tell me how to open the gate and I promise I will make it as quick and painless as I can."

"How very comforting," Sam replied, eyes darting around, searching for some sort of weapon, some way to escape.

"I mean it, I have the power to make you beg for death. I'll take you apart, piece by tiny piece, leaving your lungs and your mouth for last so you can tell me what I want. There won't be enough left of you to identify when I am done, unless you tell me right now where the gate is and how I am going to open it."

"Look, Lady, I don't know what the hell you are talking about, but I do know that there are people who will be waiting for me and will notice if I am not out in the next 30 seconds and they are not nearly so nice as I am.,

"Nice bluff, boy, but I know that all that is waiting for you out there is your big brother, barely more than a kid himself and certainly not capable of taking me down."

"You should learn to do your research," a voice came from beyond the giant wings.

The creature whirled around, snatching Sam as she turned. "One wrong move and I gut him." Her sharp claws prodded at Sam's stomach, pricking him, occasionally drawing blood. Sam looked at Dean, standing there with his gun out and his _Don't mess with my Sammy_ face. He was flooded with such relief he nearly cried.

"Seriously, drop the knife and step away from my brother. Is this really worth going to jail for? Let him go now and we won't even tell the cops about the gas station attendant who went psycho."

Sam looked at his brother, confused. Could he not see the wings that filled the room, the claws that were centimetres away from clawing at his intestines?

"Do you want money? I have money. This does not have to end badly so long as you do not hurt my brother."

"Come closer," she said.

"I'd really rather not, not until you let my brother go."

"Come closer or you'll be gathering up his insides off the floor."

"Please don't do anything you're gonna regret later. I know you are in a dead end job and maybe want to get out of this town, but this is not the way to do it. You're young, kinda pretty and I am sure you are much smarter than this."

"Dean, she's not…" Sam started to say, but the creature dug her claws in just that little bit more and the words were cut off by a strangled yell of pain as his grey t-shirt started to run with blood,.

"Hey! Hey! Stop! You don't have to do this. Seriously, whatever you want, you can have it. I will do whatever I can, just put the knife down."

"I do want one thing."

"Name it."

"Your brother's blood, running in rivers on the floor." She dug her talons in viciously and Sam screamed. Dean shot five times, not stopping until the creatures head was pulp. Then he was at his brother's side, putting pressure on the puncture wounds.

There was a strange rustling noise and Dean watched in horror as the woman's head slowly started to reform.

"Ok, you with me, Sammy?"

Sam was coherent enough to nod and not to fight when Dean pulled him to his feet.

"Something freaky is going on. We gotta get out of here," Dean said. "Can you walk?" Sam nodded, willing to do anything if it meant getting away from the monster lying on the floor.

As quickly as he dared, Dean dragged Sam to the Impala and they peeled out of the parking lot, not quite fast enough to avoid hearing the screech of frustrated rage that followed them.

Dean looked over at his brother, trying to assess the damage. It didn't look too bad, just five puncture wounds, hardly even oozing blood anymore. It was rather strange though, he could have sworn she was holding a knife and that she had cut Sam with the blade.

"Do we need to stop right away or can you keep pressure on that, squirt?"

"Keep driving…call Dad from road…Don't stop…I'm fine."

"Right, yeah, you're fine all right."

"Please Dean, gotta get away from the monster. Can patch myself up enough. Freaky bird lady didn't cut too deep."

Whoa, dude, freaky bird lady? Are you sure you're all right, cause if you are hallucinating than we have worse problems than a woman with a knife."

"No really, she had big, red wings and a beak. She scratched me with her claws. You just couldn't see her. Trust me."

"If you are all right, then I guess we better keep going. Let me know if blood loss gets to be too much and we will stop to sew you up."

Sam nodded, suddenly too tired to speak.

"No sleeping. Stay awake. I gotta be able to tell what's going on."

"Should clean them. Don't know what kind of monster this is. Holy water?"

"Better safe than sorry. Can you manage?"

"I think I got it," Sam said softly, pulling the bottle from the glove compartment and, sucking in a deep breath, he poured it over the puncture wounds. Dean was trying to keep an eye on the road and an eye on his little brother at the same time and so he watched as Sam grew alarmingly pale and began to spew every curse word in his extensive vocabulary, as well as throwing in a few he had made up himself. The wounds steamed only a little, but enough to make Dean wince in sympathy.

"Gahh." Sam finally managed to breath. "That was about as fun as getting kicked in the nads."

"You alright? Need to pull over?"

Naw, I'm fine. Look, it's almost stopped bleeding. I'm pretty sure I can handle it." He grabbed the smaller first aid kit from under the front seat and taped a couple layers of gauze over it before calling it good.

"I am checking that the moment we stop."

"Yes, Mother." Sam rolled his eyes before they began to close involuntarily.

"Hey, what did I say about sleeping?"

"Promise I will wake up if I'm about to bleed out." Sam snuggled down against the leather seats, completely at ease. Dean smiled fondly before reaching for his jacket and throwing it over Sam's thin shoulders. He drove on, resolving to stop in the next town for a motel and to check his brother over.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, Seaweed Brain, you end up getting any sleep."

"I'll say," Grover jumped in. "He was sleeping so deeply when I found him that he nearly took my head off!"

"Really?" Annabeth looked worried. "Are you often that disoriented when you wake up?"

"I'm fine," Percy shoved off her concern. "I would tell you if there was something wrong."

"If you're sure," Annabeth reluctantly agreed. "But let me know if that changes."

"Gosh, stop hovering. I said I was fine. You'll know when I'm not," Percy snapped.

Annabeth looked hurt. "Sorry, Percy. I just care."

"Well, can you do it in a way that isn't quite so suffocating? It's getting so a guy can hardly take a deep breath around her without it being shoved back down his throat."

"Fine," Annabeth turned and strode away quickly, not looking back.

"Finally," Percy sighed. "A second to breath." He glared at Grover. "What are you looking at, Goatman? I want to be alone, now back off."

Grover looked at him thoughtfully before walking off after Annabeth without another word. Percy stood watching them walk away, filled with anger so thick he thought he might explode. Who did they think they were? A lowly faun, a daughter of Athena, certainly not a child of the big three. Maybe it was time for him to make a few changes, starting by ditching everyone who was holding him back. He grinned to himself as the world grew brighter, basking in the light of a golden sunrise. He looked out of the camp at the rolling hills surrounding the place and his vision changed. He could see the boy again, Sam Winchester, that was his name. He could see a path , shimmering in the air, traced in the same beautiful golden light that held him in thrall. He knew where he needed to go and he knew he needed to go alone.

.~o()o~.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty, I don't want to have to drag your ass into the hotel. Can you stand?"

Sam groaned softly and stretched, shaking as he was pulled from a deep sleep. "Yeah, I can make it," he said softly, wincing as he pulled himself up out of the passenger seat. "Its really not too bad. I don't need to stop."

"Not stopping for you, asshat. If I drive much longer, I'll put us in the ditch. Doesn't mean I won't be cleaning those wounds out properly though. Go crawl into bed. I'll grab the rest of the stuff."

Sam yawned and put his arm protectively over his sore stomach as he walked inside, shuffling his feet. He looked back at Dean to see if he needed help.

"I've got it, Grandma. Go get your ass in that bed before you keel over."

Sam flopped onto his back with a relieved sigh the moment he drew close to a bed and stretched out. He wasn't nearly as tall as Dean yet, but his legs were growing quickly and they did tend to get sore after sitting in a car all day long. He sighed contentedly, relishing the softness of the mattress and the bedding that for once did not smell of cigarette smoke. Dean must have sprung for a better motel, knowing he was injured. It was just another of the many reasons Sam loved his brother, not that he would ever tell him that.

"Are you alright?" a soft voice interrupted his musings.

Sam shot up with a yell of surprise that quickly turned into a hiss of pain as the movement pulled on his recent wounds. He found himself face to face with a girl, and not a normal girl. This girl was floating above the ground and clothed with a gauzy material so light that it floated on the breeze. She was also exquisitely beautiful, lustrous, curly dark hair tumbling about her shoulders and deep brown eyes, full lips and face with a gentle curve.

"Ah…Wh-wha? Wh-who? D-dean?" Sam struggled to get a word out.

"Do you want him? I can go get him for you. I'm here to help. Just ask me for anything and if it is within my power I will do it."

Sam blushed, concentrating very hard to try and get a word out, but nothing was happening. He relaxed when Dean walked into the room.

"Hey," he said as he dropped the bags by the door. "We don't need a maid right now. Come back when we leave. I don't care if the toilet's dirty or whatever."

"Not the maid, Dean," Sam finally managed to string a few words together.

Dean assessed the situation in a flash and he was across the room, gun out before Sam could blink. "I don't care how pretty you are, lady, you mess with my brother, I take you apart."

The girl looked at him in surprise for a minute before her luminous eyes filled up with tears. "Oh, you think I'm here to hurt you?" she wailed. "I just wanted to do something nice after that mean harpy poked him with her claws. I'm your friend. Why do you want to hurt me?" She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Dean and Sam looked at each other and shrugged, at a loss as to how to deal with this. "Um…there, there," Dean said awkwardly. Without a pause in her crying, the girl launched herself at Dean, burying her face in the crook of his neck, tears dampening the shoulder of his t-shirt.

"Um, It's ok. I'm not going to hurt you," Dean tried to extricate himself from the girls arms, but she was stuck tight. "You have to understand, Sammy was hurt by a crazy woman not that long ago so strange people in our hotel room is going to make me a little crazy."

"Y-you thought I was a b-b-bad guy. I wouldn't hurt your brother. I came here to help heal him. And you want to sh-sh-shoot me!" The girl cried on and Dean was getting seriously uncomfortable. Sam would have been dying by laughter at this point if his wounds hadn't decided to give a sudden vicious throb, temporarily rendering him unable to breath. He lay back on the pillow, suddenly light headed, pulses of heat racing up and down his body.

"Sammy?" Dean noticed the minute Sam started to succumb to his wounds. "Ah crap, Sammy, don't go anywhere on me."

"Sorry, hurts," Sam wrapped his arms around his abdomen and groaned. "Maybe you should stop snuggling with the pretty girl and get to cleaning out these wounds. It wasn't bad before, but at the moment I kind of wish you would save it for the bedroom."

"Oh poo, I was hoping we could bypass this stage," the girl shook her head sadly. "We took too long."

Dean was at his brother's side in a second, brushing dark bangs out of the way to see glassy eyes.

"Geez, kid, you're burning up, what the hell? You were fine when I checked on you in the Impala."

"I don't know," Sam said, suddenly scared to lift his shirt up and look at his wounds. The girl did it for him, exposing red and tight, swollen puncture marks, oozing a dirty yellow fluid.

"What the hell, Sam, I thought you cleaned these."

"I did, they were fine. They hardly even hurt until two minutes ago."

"It's the poison," the girl shook her head sadly. "I hoped to get here first, before it took hold."

"Poison? What poison?" Dean grabbed the girls arms again, hard enough to bruise. What can you do to stop it?"

The girl shook herself slightly, her happy-go-lucky personality instantly replaced by serious efficiency. "The harpy's saliva is venomous. She must have licked her claws or something but the fact of the matter is, without help, he won't make it though the night. I know you believe my story, at least enough not to kill me right off the bat, but please, let me help your brother."

"He didn't get sick until you came into the room. How do I know you aren't hurting Sam and then pretending to make him better in some twisted bid to get our trust."

Well, you don't know that. there are probably hundreds of girls in the town who could br just as suspicious as I am. Sam doesn't have time for you to hem and haw and figure out all the nuance of the law. He'll die from this long before I am released."

Dean looked at the wall and looked at his brother. Sam was using the eyes. Even though he was not too keen on this girl touching Sam, he realized he had no other choice. Sam was deteriorating before his eyes and there was nothing Dean could do but watch him do it.

As if to make up his mind for him, Sam's back suddenly arched in agony and he was gripped in a powerful full-body spasm that left him unable to do anything but whimper in pain. Dean looked at the girl, murder in his eyes.

"Help him, help him quickly and if you are lying to me and you hurt him in any way, you won't live to tell the story."

She pulled a small bottle out of her sleeve and proceeded to pour the contents of Sam's wounds. It wasn't like the holy water, where only a tiny puff of smoke came out and coloured the air. No, suddenly, Dean found himself in a cloud of purple steam.

Sam's breathing got faster and faster until Dean could no longer tell if he was breathing in or out. Then, all movement stopped. Sam's eyes rolled far back into his head and he slumped lifelessly into the mattress.

"No, no, no, no. what did you do, you bitch?" Dean shouted, pulling Sam up into his arms.

"He will be all right, you just have to wait," the girl said calmly.

"Wait for what?" Dean's tirade was stopped then as he felt Sam stop breathing. "Yeah, I'm gonna trust you, the skank that just killed my brother.

"Just wait, it will work. He can't have been too far gone just yet."

Dean began rescue breathing, trying to bring Sam back to consciousness, but there was not so much as a twitch,. Finally, Sam sucked in one huge ragged breath and then that was it. Colour began to return to his cheek

"Thank God," Dean whispered brokenly. He had no idea what would have happened if Sam ha died at that moment.

"Dude, you are totally suffocating me," Sam spoke weakly, pushing ineffectively at Dean's shoulder.

Dean reluctantly released him, letting him slide back down to the pillow where, very shortly afterward, his breath slowed into sleep.

"Ok," Dean looked menacingly at the girl in front of him. "You better get explaining, and fast. Otherwise you will not be keeping your head or anything else you find essential."

The girl shrunk back into the corner before haltingly beginning to speak.

.~o()o~.

Two men stood in front of a roaring fire. "It is pleasant to watch the burning souls, isn't it my lord." One man spoke from the shadows at fire's edge.

"It is indeed," the other replied, lazily blowing smoke rings across the suffering before him.

"Do you think it is enough? Will this drive the Winchester and the Jackson boy together?"

"Of course it is enough.. My plans are not subject to human error. I am a God, no one, not even this Percy Jackson kid that everyone is talking about, can change my plan. He is under my spell. Trust me, he won't be revealing any of this to another soul."

"What about the boy? Are you sure he can handle it. We wouldn't want him to die too soon."

"The Harpy poison didn't kill him. He's a Winchester. He could be the pansiest baby of the family and still be ten times tougher than the normal child. Trust me, he will come through it. I can't promise he will be all in one piece, but he will make it. To prove to himself that he is strong and to prove to his father that he is not useless. We have nothing to worry about. When it is time for the Jackson boy to enter the picture, Sam will still give us a fight. We just need to make sure that he is going to lose."

The two men watched the fire, not looking at each other, just relishing the dancing patterns of the flame and the screams of the damned.

Much later, one man pulled out a bottle of wine and said, " Let's toast, toast to a year of change, a year of excitement. And also, to Hades roaming free, to endless dominion in the heart of the people. Tell me, Azazel, how does it feel to have people laugh at you and tell you that you are the laughingstock of the demon world? After this, it will be like that no longer, just you and me, turning the world in the way it should me.

"And I raise a toast to Hades, forever being invented. You have long been the talk of nightmare, may you soon be the talk of reality. May it be as you have told me."

"Let it be so."

.~o()o~.

And the plot thickens! Review please!


	5. Chapter 5

Next chapter! Enjoy!

.~o()o~.

"Alright," Dean said gruffly. "What are you and why did you happen to be hanging out in our hotel room with the exact antidote we needed?"

"Well, you have already guessed that I am not human."

Yes," Dean growled impatiently.

"I am an Aura, a spirit of the wind. Zeus came to me many weeks ago, telling me that the winds were changing and I had a new path to follow. I have been watching you since then, but I was never to step in unless something happened that you could not deal with on your own, such as harpy poison. I was not to interfere unless absolutely necessary."

Whoa hang on, Zeus? As in the Greek God, Zeus. He's real?"

"Of course he is real. He is just as real as you or I and when he gave me this special task, I jumped at the chance to do his bidding. He is a great master, I serve him willingly."

"And why us? Why are we so important?"

"You don't know?" The Aura looked shocked. Don't you even know where your parents came from. What do you know about your Dad's Dad?"

"Not much, I guess. He left my grandma when Dad was really small. He never gqave a reason and nobody ever heard from him again. I just assumed he went on a bender and died in a gutter somewhere. Or maybe he got into a bar brawl. It seems to be a weakness that runs in the family."

"He did disappear, but he wasn't a drunk, he didn't do something stupid and get himself killed. He was something much better than that.

"Cut to the chase"

Alright, your grandfather was not human. He was a God, the God Zeus to be even more specific. He fell in love with your grandmother and spent time long enough to see the baby thriving in his mother's womb. Then he left her to raise the child alone. Your father. He is a demigod, Dean, half god, half mortal and so you have some of that divine blood in you as well.

"But there is more, Mary's grandmother, also a good person, also had children by someone else, someone godly. This time, the god Poseidon. The blood in you that comes from all, You have that divinity in your from both side."

"So what about the visions. Are they going to stop know that we have found out what is going on?"

"Sam is special, I know you know that. The blood is different in him somehow. Something is added."

"What do I do?"

"You keep him safe. You try to stay ahead of everyone who will come after you and you guard Sam with your life. So basically, the same thing you have been doing since you first laid eyes on him as a squalling infant."

"And if they find him, what are they going to do? Capture him? Torture?"

"No Dean, whatever is in his blood, they need it and they don't need him to be alive to give it. They will kill your brother if you don't stop them."

"Well, then they are not going to find him. Do you know a place where we can hide? Or at least somewhere that would be easily defensible?"

"I'm sorry, I've already said too much. I was only supposed to give him the antidote and get out."

"Please," Dean asked. "He isn't ready to fight yet. If they come after him now, it could be disastrous."

There was a moment of pity on the Aura's face and Dean thought she was weakening, but then it disappeared and the helpful, serious woman was replaced by the silly girl once more.

"Naughty Dean, trying to get me to do all your work for you. I simply can't do it." Then her face softened again, intelligence sneaking through almost against her will. "But I will be watching." She leaned forward and hugged him, whispering into his ear as she did so. "Go north."

.~o()o~.

It took Percy a very long time to realize that he was tired. His legs were trembling and his arms were shaking. His stomach growled and tried to seal itself to his backbone. It was with surprise that he realized he had been running all day and night and it was morning again. The moment he stopped moving, he collapsed onto the ground. He was not sure why he had been running or where and already he was kicking himself about not bringing food, water or something for shelter. He had a weapon, thanks to the ballpoint pen he could not lose, but that was all he had beside the clothes on his back.

He looked around, but had no idea where he was. There were rolling, grassy hills as far as he could see but no cities or towns. There wasn't even a farm. Suddenly his stomach began growling with renewed intensity and a delicious scent wafted toward his nostrils. He scrambled over a few feet and found a small hollow in the ground containing a steaming hot Beef sandwich and a glass of cold milk. He didn't question where it had come from but simply dug in, stuffing his face and filling the empty hole in his stomach. When he finished one, another took its place and he continued to eat until he was satisfied. If he had been more aware, he would have wondered about its origins but Percy could hardly bring himself to care about anything at all.

When his meal was finished, he began walking again for maybe a half hour or so until he reached a short line of cars leading into an official looking building. He would have gone around but someone had built a tall fence stretching as far as the eye could see.

Something inside him was pulling him forward and without a thought, he strode toward the third last car in line, opened the door and sat in the backseat.

"What took you so long, son?" a man turned around and asked him from the driver's seat. "You know you don't have a way to get across the border if you don't come with us."

"I'm sorry, Dad," Percy said smoothly, not sure where the words were coming from. "I had to go and then I saw some cool rocks and stuff." He pulled a flint arrowhead out of his pocket and held it up for inspection.

"Don't yell at him. It's a vacation. Boys will be boys, you know," a kind woman's voice came from the passenger seat. "Let me see your rock, sweetie." She smiled.

Percy handed it over and sat still, staring out the window.

"Ready to catch your first glimpse of Canada?" the man asked as he pulled up to the building and handed several bits of ID out the window.

Percy nodded. Apparently, he had been running much faster than he thought.

They were through in no time and driving up a hill only to see more hills and more grass and no trees anywhere.

"Welcome to Sasquatche…Saskathe…Saskanew…" the man stuttered.

"Saskatchewan, dear," the woman corrected. "I do hope you will enjoy yourself on this delightful little outing," she continued prattling on for quite some time. Percy thought it had maybe been fifteen minutes when the voice suddenly stopped, the car slowing and pulling over to the side. Both the man and woman stared unblinkingly at the windshield and Percy somehow knew it was time for him to get out. He opened the door and shut it gently, walking away from the road. The man started the car and drove away. Neither of them looked back.

Percy stopped for a moment and looked around and once again saw the golden light that had drawn him before. He started walking again, this time, due north.

.~o()o~.

Sam didn't stir as Dean packed up the small amount of stuff he had strewn about the room and loaded it into the car. He didn't respond when Dean picked him up and carried him out to the car. He barely moved but to snuggle a little more fully into the familiar leather of the front seat. Dean smiled fondly, glad Sam wasn't awake to see him acting like a girl.

"Just sleep, kiddo, I gotcha," Dean murmured, ruffling Sam's hair. Sam sighed and turned his head into the pressure of Dean's fingers. The fever was already coming down and Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah, you're gonna be fine, squirt."

The rumbling of the car when it started served only to send Sam deeper into sleep. Dean turned up the heat and tucked their dad's old leather jacket around Sam before pulling out of the motel parking lot and getting back on the road.

Dean was tired, almost to the point of exhaustion, but he didn't know how to deal with the things that were hunting them and that allowed him to go on. He turned the wheel and headed as straight north as he could manage.

He was on his second hour of driving when he decided he could really use a coffee or six. His eyes were crossing on their own and practically ready to shut. What he really needed was a full night of uninterrupted sleep, but he didn't know who was chasing them and how far behind they were.

Finally, he pulled into a small North Dakota town and conceded that he had to stop for gas. He looked at Sam speculatively as he filled up the tank. On the one hand he was sleeping so peacefully and Dean could hardly stand the thought of waking him, but on the other, Sam had gotten into trouble in only a few short minutes outside of his brother's sight when the creepy gas station woman, harpy thing had attacked him. He looked out into the darkness. He couldn't see anything. He couldn't hear anything out of place. He would only be a few feet away and he could keep an eye on Sam through the huge window the whole time he was inside.

Decision made, he strode into the convenience store. He mentally thanked whoever had decided to put the coffee machine right by the window. The whole time he was in line, he could see the dark shape of Sam's head leaning against the window. He picked up two extra large coffees and paid for his fuel. As he was getting ready to walk out the door, he took a huge sip of his coffee, closing his eyes momentarily as the smell started waking him up already.

It was a moment too long. When he opened his eyes, a huge shape was lurking by Sam's window. If it was a man, it was a giant. Dean shouted and dropped one of his coffees, pulling his gun smoothly from the waistband of his pants and emptying half a clip into the place he assumed its face would be. It stumbled back momentarily, long enough for Dean to leap into the car, drop his coffee into the cup holder, start his engine and begin to squeal away.

The window beside Sam's head shattered with a terrifying roar and Dean shot the other half of the clip out the window.

Sam finally awoke with a cry, thankfully having the sense to duck down into the seat rather than jump up into the line of fire.

The creature was down but not out. Dean was accelerating rapidly but then felt the car lurch as something heavy attached onto the side. A monstrous, lumpy hand was clutched in the window, soon joined by the other. A grotesque face peered through and Sam screamed in fright.

Dean tried to keep firing but his gun was empty and he couldn't reach another clip. The monster let go with one hand and began to reach inside the window, going straight for Sam's neck. Then all hell really broke loose.

There was a clap of thunder and a squeal of rage from the monster and then everything went dark. Dean thought he may have blacked out for a second because suddenly it was several moments later. The Impala was still speeding along but the monster was gone, nothing remained but the whistling of cold air through the broken window and one great handprint where the creature had squeezed so hard he left his imprint in the metal itself. Dean took a shaky breath before a trembling, sobbing Sam plastered himself up against his side.

"Dean," Sam wept, breaking his older brother's heart.

"Hey, its ok. We got away," Dean tried to reassure him.

"Please don't leave me. Please, Dean," a shivering Sam pled, trying his best to burrow his way under Dean's skin.

"I won't. I promise, Sammy. I'm right here." Dean pulled him a little closer and drove with his arm around him for the next several hours, soothing the boy until he finally fell back into a restless sleep.


End file.
